One of those days....

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

The return of the soul mate

Chris Roper has always been my favourite news24 columnist and I really missed him since his column ended last year. Well the great man is back and his very first column confirms that great minds think alike (yes, cynics, it may also prove that fools never differ). Anyway it seems that Mr Roper also feels The Rage thanks to VodaCON.

Click here for his column

Neeeiiiighbours, everybody needs good neighbours!

My landlord is a typical European genteel kind of guy. Very polite. Very respectful. All in all he's a great landlord... except for one thing: His uncanny knack to catch me in the most seemingly inappropriate moments.

The band and I live on a smallholding. No one can enter the grounds for a visit without calling us from the gate. Hence we do not have the worry of people dropping by without warning. Plus our little cottage is very private... no one walks past. You have to intend to go there to be there.

For these reasons we are quite relaxed at home. Correction: we were fairly relaxed at home.

It's my landlord

He has the most uncanny knack of coming by to drop of an invoice, fix a tap, tell us stuff when WE ARE LEAST EXPECTING A VISITOR.

Now for the most part it is not even that we are doing anything dodgy... it's generally completely innocent but would APPEAR completely dodgy.

Some examples:
I will put on some clothes.
Notice a missing button or something.
Remove pants
Sit on couch in g-.. sorry guys who know me..overshare... In onnies.
Begin to sew pants (domestic little me)
And... "knock knock knock"
Look up (through glass door directly facing me)
See Edgar.
Jump a mile high.
Do some adrenalin induced unstoppable Zulu war dance movement
Hit the floor
Leopard crawl into the safety of my bedroom and leave the band to deal with it.
(nice caz, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal subtle!)

Else he will come midway through our sunday afternoon nap. We'll hear a sound, assume it is the pooches. Stef will go to let them in... in his onnies as well and looking creased and messy haired and dubious in general and Hallooooo Edgar.

Probably the worst one, however, happened yesterday. My man had been changing a tire or something manly and as we walked back to the house I sensibly checked that there was no-one around before quietly making a somewhat lewd suggestion about him ... um ... well .... (*this blogger swallows and wonders who will read this post*) about him removing his...er...dirty clothing and ...er... lying next to me for a bit of a...rest. (Ok, fine, so it was said a whole lot more lewdly than that as is the prerogative of a wife)

naturally, obviously, predictably this is followed by a big smiled "Hi Edgar!" from the band who had spotted the landlord mere steps away lying down fixing something under a door.

Time to buy me some oil of olay

Ok.. the whole midway through my twenties thing is starting to get to me. Yes, I am halfway to 50. I get it. ha ha, right?

Being 25 is not all it's cracked up to be! On my birthday the teller wouldn't let me draw money. I couldn't understand it. Til later when I figured out that they have changed my account type... farewell practically zero bank charges on my student bank account. Good bye to the good life!!

Today I battled to wind up (yes, wind up) my car window... Is this the first sign of a failing body?? And if so, whose?? Mine or the car's???

I was at the Neelsie over lunch today and the noise gave me an awful headache.

Or maybe it wasn't the noise, but the call I got from the dear old lady trying her damndest to sell me FUNERAL COVER!!!

Battle of the bands

Gotta say these cheesy headings give me a kick every time.

So my band is amazing.

This is what he did for my birthday...

Wednesday was quiet, and we had a few friends around in the evening. Fire, snacks, vino, 30 seconds and tried to forget about the cricket and evil vodacom.

Thursday we drove through to Cape Town and he pulled up at the Cape Sun entrance... and in we checked(?) Lovely hotel... although the exterior lifts rocketing you up to the 28th floor on not for the faint hearted or the sensitive eardrummed!

We went for dinner that night at Caribbean Cafe in Long St. My Tuna steak was AMAZING!!!

The next morning I was finally allowed to open my last present... Canon Digital Camera... STOKED!

Went and checked out the National Gallery... it was mildly depressing (many many signs about how the government doesn't support them and they get no funding etc etc... plus they should play some background music or something!!!). Then went and wondered through some art galleries in stellies. Got home in the afternoon. The lounge had been cleared, there was a raging fire, a bottle of cab, two easles, and a bunch of art supplies and we painted.

How cute is that?

the other side

So remember my nemesis? the evil ones? they who can not be mentioned without my blood pressure rising faster than sea levels world wide? They who cause me to have more knots in my back than a retired wrestler octagenarian with arthritis? They who make me want to sit facing a corner crying big tears of hopeless frustration? THEY WHO ARE THE BAIN OF MY LIFE????????

Yes, dear friends, it is my sadistic service provider of whom I speak. VODACOM (cue thunder sounds)

You almost won't believe this. I will forgive you if you laugh in incredulous disbelief. I EVEN DID.

Read here for the beginning of this story.

Anyway, the basics is this: they stuffed up my account in november, then took R6000 out my bank in december (that's right - ruin my holiday) then barred me twice over new years. After HOURS literally on the phone having to endure their AWFUL call waiting music, finally at last it was all sorted out... or so they said... in january this year.

SO THEY SAID

Now get this. ON MY BIRTHDAY I receive a sweet little happy birthday sms from them. Minutes later i receive a second sms from them... saying I owe them money. And the amount they refer to is one of their bugger ups from SEPTEMBER last year.

Now honestly. WILL SOMEONE PLEASE OWN UP?? Is there a hidden camera on me waiting for me to lose it?? Is there some psychotic stalker ex boyfriend working at the rodent meerkat company trying to get his revenge??

VODACOM EMPLOYEE: IF YOU ARE OUT THERE: DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT IT IS COINCIDENCE THAT YOU BUGGERED UP MY CHRISTMAS, MY NEW YEARS AND NOW MY BIRTHDAY?? To the very day??????

YAY!!!

So this morning I was woken up to a vision.... with the light shining in from behind the mountain creating a halo effect around my very hot husband (and that's not the vision part...) holding a tray with.... prezzies and a milky coffee (my best) and a cheesy strawberry jammy croissant(y). mmmmmmmmmm

So yes, it is my birthday. And even though I am now old. (TWENTY FRIKKEN FIVE) I still can't pull off the whole "it's just another day" act.

I get jubilantly ridiculously excited about my birthday.

My work is FANTASTIC!!!

Everyone has come to wish me this morning. I even had a quartet minus one (is there a name for a singing trio?) sing me happy birthday and give me a panda balloon. How nice is that. PLUS i only work half day today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YAY!!! So I am going to enjoy the morning. Relishing in birthday cake and love and 2 ply and then go home and relish in some more loving.... (*caz smiles wickedly*)

What's in a name?

Well what is in a name? Why do we always manage to find such cheeseball names for stories, articles, essays and blog entries? So lame. Doesn't mean i intend to stop it!!!

Anyway, moving on from that random little tirade.

Names are the name of the game today. (More on that later!)
How many cliches do you think i can squish into one post?

No no limit, we'll reach for the skyyyyyyyy.

Ehem. Sorry. Forgive my jubilation. It's just that it is my birthday in 2 sleeps. No I am not stoked about reaching the kwarteeu (quarter of a century for the non saffers) milestone, it's just that birthdays are sooooo exciting. You get loads of gifts, but more importantly you get all the attention. What could possible be better? Phone calls, smses and loving aaaaall day! It's the perfect day really.

Except!!! One dark black cloud has moved accross the sun that is my big day...

The bluddy ICB (or something with three initials)has decided to go ahead and schedule the SA/Aussie semi final on MY day!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE??? Have they no decency at all?? How much attention is any male INCLUDING (and ESPECIALLY) my husband, my dad, my three brothers????? Not a whole lot I'm sure! Plus it is my mom's birthday on the day (so even the attention i would have gotten will be halved!)

Moving back to the subject of names...
Batchfoo... your bambino (if a girl) would make a very nice Caz the 2nd. And is a boy, maybe Kaz? (A kicking k just seems more masculine.)

Also on the topic of names. batchfoo quite rightly pointed out that no name blog needs a name. Any suggestions?

The true mark of a quality organization...

is 2-ply.

Now I know what you're thinking ("shouldn't it actually be 3-ply?"), but no, 3 ply is just a bit overboard. 2 ply does the job just fine.

Now you may think I have writer's block again and am just grasping here, but actually it is something I feel quite passionately about (well as passionately as someone can feel about toilet paper).

You can go to the shmanciest hotel or wine farm, but if you go to the bathroom and they are using that cheap ass 1 ply stuff you know that probably for all their big smiles and "welcome ma'ams" they are cheap underneath. The beautiful teak desk? Actually just pine with a varnish stain. The wooded chardonnay? Staves of low grade oak and no barrel usage at all. That selfnamed bottled water? Straight from the tap in the kitchen. Cheap Cheap Cheap.

Where am I going with all of this? What am I on about? From whence doth come mine inspiration? Well WWF may be an NGO (which by definition = strapped for cash) but they have class. That's right, my friends, 2 ply city here.

Return of the mac

come on... i KNOW you're humming it now. it's a classic

So today is day one at new job.

So far the essential things i have learned are that:
- lunch break is compulsary
- mid morning tea break is strongly recommended
- friday afternoon social is compulsary
- birthday = half day at work

I LIKE!!!!!!

On that note... it is a mere 15 sleeps til my birthday... YAAAAAYYYY!!!!

Somewhere inbetween

Just to let you know...

I finished up at my old job last week and only start the new one on the 10th so if i am scarce, that is why!

HOPE EVERYONE IS DOING GREAT!

A case of mistaken identity

Those who know me will probably (sadly) know my car. It's not the prettiest car in the world. It's a kind of creamish beige colour. An Opel Kadett of the old school variety. The band calls it the Hag. As in short for Haggis. Now this is not complimentary or nice on any level. But I let it slide and smirk to myself (who names a car!?!!).

Ok... my inner-child conscience is urging me to insert a little quote here that my dad would definitely be saying right about now:
"A third class drive is better than a first class walk"
There we go; conscience appeased.

Anyway last weekend my 9 year old cousin came to stay. We were driving somewhere and she suddenly exclaimed "WOAH! Your car has a clock in it!!"
To which I replied "Yes, all cars have clocks in them, this one just happens to not be a digital one."
She came back (in all sincerity - bless her little heart!!) with "So it's a real clock!!! FANCY!!!!!"

Guess who's 60!

Well this is post number... you guessed it ... 60!
(What gave it away?)

IS IT JUST ME??

Or are all gardeners sadists. Now I trust the non south African readership will bear with me on this one…

In South Africa it is fairly common to employ a gardener or a gardening service.

In my opinion gardeners – though seemingly benign and in touch with nature, are, in fact, the ultimate sadists.

Why? you ask, bewildered. Well have you ever decided that you deserve to sleep in and skip class? (just this once of course!) Well GUARANTEED that will be the day that the gardening service decides to mow the extensive lawns…. You know the ones RIGHT OUTSIDE YOUR BEDROOM WINDOW.

Or else, it’s the day of your big interview… you have woken up early (for goodness sake!!!!) and you have even dug your abandoned iron out of the nether regions of your cupboard to ensure you are looking your most spiffing and just as you are about to reach your car CHHHHHHHHHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK. On come the sprinklers. Drenched.

The worst must surely be when you are sick. It’s not often that one is sick enough to warrant staying at home… and actually needing to sleep, but somehow, some way, the gardeners will ALWAYS know when you do. This is the day they use the worst of all weapons… the weed eater. It is incredible how many weeds seem to grow inches from your room right near your head.

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssss HOT!!!

So Thursday night was the big Cliff Richard concert.

The band took the ladies through to Cape Town in the afternoon and soon after he had dropped them off I got a frantic and only mildly sheepish call from them saying they had forgotten the tickets in Stellenbosch (about a 40min drive).

hmmmmm

Anyway, got that sorted and the ladies managed to get in and get decent seats.

Somewhere along the line I got a call from my mom. In the background I heard the cliff saying:
"You know, a journalist has said that I'm not cool..... well that's because I'M HOT!!"

WOW. That's all i can say.

By the end of the weekend full of two aging teenager types gushing about Cliff this and Cliff that I was just about ready to jump off a cliff!

If you are wondering where dartanion went, he has been replaced by pugnacious the panda!

Why? BECAUSE I JUST GOT THE MOST AWESOME JOB AT WWF (no, not the wrestling people, the conservation people with the panda logo!)

STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKED!!

Yes sirree

As if the stress of the impending house inspection is not enough, I also have to stress about the behaviour of these blood relatives of mine when they are here...

The ladies, you see, are coming to see Cliff Richard doing his thang at Kirstenbosch Gardens.

Devoted fans since their teenage years I can not be certain that they won't do something unforgivable in all the excitement... we have expressly forbidden them throwing any undergarments at the cliffie....

The snide response to our well placed concern was: "Who is your cliffie? It is SIR Cliff Richard to you. Have some respect!"

D Day is (almost) upon us

MY MOTHER IS COMING TO VISIT!!

Click here to read about the last time my mom visited. Scary, right?

This is scarier.... this time my aunt is coming as well! Let me give you a little context:

My aunt has 3 daughters and a son. The daughters are lovely, neat, dutiful ladies inclined to neat hair, ironed clothes, regular housework and healthy cooking (think steamed veggies).

My mom has 3 sons and a daughter. This daughter is inclined to none of the above. I blame it on my position in the family (bless you Freud for all the justifications you provide!) But really, I grew up playing cricket and waterpolo and tennis and the-moving-target-for-my-brother's-beebee-gun. Tidiness somehow never became a passion.

So before said mother and aunt arrive on wednesday some panic will ensue.

Wish me luck.

Go play with my pet

Check my pet dartanion out in the side bar. He really likes it if you click on him and play a bit. If he looks hungry click on the "more" tab and feed him.

Why a bat, you might ask? well I am trying to get over a little phobia I have fostered since my formative years...

You know when the grown ups tell you that if a bat gets in your hair it will get tangled in forever? WHY DO THEY DO THAT?

I mean, lets be honest, it really is downright mean. Firstly because if it landed on you it would decide to roll around til it was knotted - surely that would take some doing(?) and secondly because as everyone knows, bats never come too close to people (sonar and all that).

WRONG!!!

I always get mocked when I show any slight timidity (ok, ok, terror and revulsion) toward bats. And the annoying ones will pipe in with (imagine a high-pitched nasal voice) "but caz, you are supposed to be a nature lover. It is not like it would ever touch you".

Amateurs.

I HAVE THE UNFORTUNATE DISTINCTION OF BEING A BAT MAGNET!!!!!

I have had one land on my head once and a few years later on my face while i was sleeping.

What do you think the odds of that actually are? I reckon if i lived in Bumblebee tuna land I would be a queen or something for my frequent associations with the sacred creatures (If you get that reference then you are a true compadre and i will be well impressed!!)

Frikken little bloodsuckers are everywhere!

Trapped

Have you ever had a situation where you are on the verge of something big and you are so excited and you wait and wait....... and then it subsides.

Then you're on the verge of something even bigger and you are SO excited and you wait and you wait and you wait ........ and it subsides again...

Have you ever felt trapped in your situation?